First time? Maybe not
by MinionMooskateerAckleholic
Summary: What could have happened between Silva and 007... Contains S&M and violence. Please read and REVIEW!


Silva undid the next button on Bond's white shirt and pulled it to the left, locating the red scar he knew would be there. The ex-agent touched it roughly and Bond growled in pain, gritting his teeth. Silva drew back with mock surprise.

"Hurt, does it James? Did _Mummy_ let you get hurt again?"

"It's just pain." Bond replied drily, taking a deep breath. The wire that held his hands behind the chair was starting to dig in, so 007 focused on the smaller pain there to detract from the pain in his shoulder. What happened next was so unexpected, even for Bond that it detracted entirely from all the pain: Silva parted the other side of his shirt and gently, with feather-light fingers, brushed Bond's collarbone. Bond froze and even though Silva was talking…something about M, Bond was barely listening, he was focusing on Silva's fingers that were making a slowly delicate path across his chest.

Then Bond smiled and looked up at Silver, trying to shake off any confusion as to what Silva was trying to do here.

"Are you sure this is about M?" Bond asked smirking, his blue eyes dancing with a dangerous fire that Silva both liked and hated. James Bond was a very attractive man and if he didn't give in and put a stop to Silva's touching, then Silva would not be disappointed at all. Sex with 007, would undoubtedly be…very good…given his _experience._

"It's about M…and you and I…and, well…" Silva smiled almost sweetly Bond thought…if he hadn't been an older, male criminal. "Look at you!" Silva breathed, thinking he was getting the better of Bond, "You can't remember your training now, can you? What is standard procedure for this situation?" he ran his hand down Bond's chest and then stroked the side of his neck, feeling the catching ends of stubble.

Bond's breathe quickened slightly, but not in fear or trepidation like Silva thought. Silva put both his hands on Bond's upper thighs and slowly stroked down to his knees.

"Well…there is no protocol written for this situation James! But there's a first time for everything." Silva said seductively, moving his hands back up Bond's thighs. Bond cocked an eyebrow.

"What makes you think this is my first time?" 007 queried, glad Silva was not looking at his crotch which had stirred slightly under the criminal's touch. Silva smiled and then laughed at Bond's courage, wondering how far this was going. Bond was either very devoted to M and would do anything for her...even sleep with and man to avoid telling anything or he was just pretending to be very…very bold. Then of course Silva looked down and discovered that it was neither and perhaps indeed this was not Bond's _first time._

"So Mr Bond, are all the women you bed a front for your true desires?" Silva asked, shuffling forward so he was kneeling in between Bond's knew and leaning close to 007's ear. Bond felt his cock tense as Silva's breath tickled his ear.

"No, I am just…not specific or fussy." 007 answered, sounding a little strained, his voice becoming huskier as he fought temptation.

"Does _Mummy _know?" Silva breathed, putting his hands back on Bond's muscled thighs and squeezing slightly. Bond moaned very softly before answering.

"Probably. You know your men are still in the room, right?" Silva started and then glanced over Bond's shoulder to see the five black-clothed men holding machineguns.

"So they are! Thankyou double O seven, I had forgotten!" Silva gestured to the men, "Can't you see I don't need you! This is not an execution yet and he's tied up! Fuck off!" The men left, all hiding grins, because they knew their boss was gay, but they had at least thought he wouldn't hit on the prisoners, especially not James Bond.

When the lift door closed behind the last man, Silva turned to Bond and smiled, and then he leaned forward and captured the agent's lips in a passionate kiss. Bond returned the kiss, straining against his ropes as he sought further contact. Silva's lips were softer than Bond had expected and Bond gently bit the bottom one, making Silva grip his thighs even tighter.

Silva thrust his tongue forcefully into Bond's mouth and 007 welcomed it with his own tongue. The kiss became a violent duel for power and control, their teeth clashed and their tongues fought madly, suddenly Bond tasted blood and knew that one of them was bleeding, but he didn't care…in fact his cock jumped and tightened even harder. Silva felt Bond's length jerk against his stomach and smiled into Bond's eager lips.

Silva stood up, breaking the kiss momentarily, while he straddled 007's lap, rocking their erections together and causing them both to pant slightly. When Silva lowered his lips back to Bond's again, he put his hands on both sides of Bond's head and tilted his face upwards. Then Silva started to trail his attention along Bond's throat, biting him roughly and then soothing the pain with gentle licks. Bond could stay quiet no longer, he moaned loudly and turned his head, taking Silva's earlobe in his teeth and biting it hard enough to draw blood, then he licked it clean, making sure to pay attention to the sensitive place behind the ear.

"I am…going to…kill you, after this…James!" Silva said breathlessly, and Bond nodded.

"I know, but I'll…kill you first you arrogant dick!" Bond growled huskily, Silva broke the kiss and slapped Bond hard across the face; left cheek, then right, before ripping open Bond's white shirt and raking his fingernails painfully across the tanned skin. Bond groaned in pain, but not discomfort. He loved the violence and was not ashamed to admit it…not many women liked it this rough.

"Be polite, Mr Bond…don't make me hurt you again!" Silva said, knowing very well that was exactly what the agent wanted. Silva bent down and took Bond's left nipple between his teeth, biting the hard nub and flicking his tongue at its centre. Bond made a strained sound and bucked his hips off the chair trying to create friction between their hardened, eager cocks. Silva bit down even harder on Bond's nipple making him gasp, then he turned his attention to the large welts left by his fingernails. Silva licked the red lines slowly, listening to Bond's breathing as he sucked air slowly through his teeth.

"You gonna untie me?" Bond gasped, "Can't do much to me when I'm tied to a chair." Silva raised his head and slapped Bond across the face again, and then he soothed the burning sting with his palm.

"Shut up you presumptuous fuck!" Silva said so sweetly it was dangerous, "I can do plenty when you're tied to a chair and from now on you do as I say."

Bond winced, his cheeks still burning, the pain sending shoots of white hot pleasure straight to his cock. "Or what?" Bond asked, looking up at Silva with an insolent expression. Silva snarled and reached behind him and pulled out a medical scalpel, that glinted dully in the light and appeared to sing. Bond eyed it with an excited apprehension, wondering and dreading and longing for what was to come.

Silva stood up slowly and then knelt back down next to the chair. Then he gently ran the blade along Bond's jawline, down his neck and shoulder, across his chest and over his stomach, leaving a thin line that shone crimson, as tiny drops of blood formed. Bond breathed deeply as the stinging sensation intensified to a delicious pain.

"No!" Silva suddenly yelled, tossing the scalpel across the floor. It slid cleanly away, the cold grey metal making a single high note as it settle some feet away. "I may be able to do anything to you in this chair, James, but there is little you can do for me."

Silva got up and went round behind Bond and roughly removed the bindings that held him there. Immediately 007 rose and attempted to attack Silva, but Silva stepped back quickly and pulled a small hand gun out of his pocket. He laughed gently.

"James! James! James! You can either kill me now and deal with that lust alone, or you can wait a little and kill after I beat you and fuck you senseless."

Bond swallowed as his cock jumped and throbbed painfully in his suit pants. But he shook off the lust, because it didn't matter how much he might want Silva…that man was the enemy and the mission was vital.


End file.
